


wasn't expecting that

by happynotdignified



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Astoria Greengrass Dies, But not before she has a wonderful life with Draco, Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Draco Malfoy Has Issues, F/M, Minor Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Redeemed Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:14:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26564197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happynotdignified/pseuds/happynotdignified
Summary: Following a narrow escape from an Azkaban sentence, Draco is working in St Mungo's when he meets Astoria Greengrass who takes his life in directions he never would have imagined.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So the whole concept of this story was based on listening to the song "Wasn't Expecting That" by Jamie Lawson. It's beautiful and you should listen to it! It fits so well with Draco and Astoria  
> In my imaginings of post Deathly Hallows, I think Lucius would have gone to Azkaban but that Narcissa and Draco would have escaped. I imagine them getting some sort of community service.   
> Chpt 1 of this is kind of a prequel to introduce my version of post Deathly Hallows

** Wasn't Expecting That **

“Draco Malfoy, stand forward,” the voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt boomed around the Wizengamot Hall. Draco pushed himself to his feet, doing his best to appear collected; a hard feat given that he had spent the previous day in this hall watching his father condemned to a full decade in Azkaban.

“You stand accused as a known Death Eater who bears the Dark Mark. You are accused of conspiring with the Dark Lord, Voldemort to raise up and later maintain his reign of terror. You are accused of crimes against Muggleborn witches and wizards including imprisonment, torture and abuse. You are accused of plotting the murder of Albus Dumbledore. Mr Malfoy, how do you plead?” Shacklebolt looked down from his podium, setting his papers down.

Draco cleared his throat, looking around the hall cautiously. His mother sat in the witness box, alongside Professors Flitwick and Slughorn, Ernie Macmillan, one of the Malfoy’s house-elves, Hermione Granger and the famous Harry Potter himself. The court room was also far fuller than usual he imagined; Death Eater trials where of more interest than the standard petty criminal trials that the Wizengamot dealt with outside of war times. Reporters from the Daily Prophet, Witch Weekly and the Quibbler, lined the seats below the Minister’s podium.

“I plead guilty,” Draco responded far more clearly and loudly than he had expected his voice would sound after such disuse. “I was involved in all the charges put before but not of my own free will.”

The crowd which had let out a murmur of approval at his first statement now grew angrier and began protesting.

“SILENCE!” Shacklebolt hit his gavel off the podium with immediate effect. “I call the first witness, Narcissa Malfoy – for the record, please note the Wizengamot recognise the bias nature of this witness and will treat her testimony with due caution. Mrs Malfoy, you speak on behalf of your son. What evidence may you give in his defence that he acted under coercion.”

“It is true that Draco bears the Dark Mark and was given it along with the task of killing Albus Dumbledore. I was there and witnessed the exchange between my son and the Dark Lord,” Narcissa began. “He was barely sixteen at the time and I do not believe he understood the full weight of what he was doing. My husband never hid his support of the Dark Lord from us at home and he had just been imprisoned for it. Draco was threatened by the Dark Lord that if he did not carry through the task he had been set, both myself and he would be murdered. You cannot possibly understand the constant threat my family has lived under since then. Draco like myself had no choice in the actions we carried out during the war. To disobey was to court death.”

“Then you should have died!” yelled a member of the public bench causing Draco to wince. There had been times when death seemed preferable to following any longer.

“May I remind the public that you are here to observe, not to interfere with the law,” responded Shacklebolt in that deep calming voice of his. “Be that as it may, the question is a good one. If your son disagreed so greatly with what Lord Voldemort asked of him, would death not be option?”

“Self-preservation is one of the basest of all human instincts,” Narcissa responded coolly. “For the last year my family have been as much prisoners as those kept in dungeons of our home.”

“That bodes a further question, of why prisoners were being kept in your home?” pointed out a member of the Wizengamot behind Shacklebolt.

“A charge which does not come against my son, I may remind you. Only my husband and myself.” Narcissa all but snarled. “Draco was underage when he was coerced into becoming a Death Eater and his ambition was taken advantage of. He is now barely eighteen and has his whole life ahead of him! A life you intend to take from him by locking him up in Azkaban! This last year he has done what he had to do to survive. There are others his age who did it out of malice but not Draco, he learnt a hard lesson the previous year! But because he is branded with that mark you will condemn him over the likes of Gregory Goyle who is just as – if not more – guilty of crimes committed at Hogwarts last year. He was sixteen when he took that mark and if he could go back he would never have done it! Is the Wizengamot really so cruel as to sentence a young man to Azkaban for a huge mistake he made as a teenager?”

Narcissa stopped to take a great breath and Draco stared at her in wonder. Every word she spoke of him was true though they had never discussed it; it seemed she knew him better than he knew himself.

“Yesterday you put my husband behind bars, tomorrow, it is just as likely you will do the same for me. But I beg you, do not place Draco there also. I admit freely that Lucius and I are guilty of what you condemn us to but not Draco, he was coerced and threatened. He does not deserve Azkaban.” Narcissa finished with a defiant look at the Minister of Magic before returning to her seat.

Draco wished he could go to her; the court may not recognise what she had done but he did. His mother was a proud woman and for her to confess her own guilt and then plead and beg in front of every powerful witch and wizard in Britain was no small feat. Draco felt a sting in the back of his eyes and blinked rapidly; the love shown by his mother brought unexpected emotion.

The courtroom had fallen into a shocked and slightly admiring silence. Draco almost thought the level of open hostility had retreated slightly in wake of his mother’s address. Eventually Shacklebolt cleared his throat, “thank you Mrs Malfoy. I now call our final witness, Mr Harry Potter.”

Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath; any leeway that his mother had made for him was about to be undone. As Potter moved forward to the witness box with a grim determination on his face, Draco briefly wondered if they’d let him have a cell near his father’s; he almost wished they wouldn’t.

“Mr Potter, you are called as a witness of Mr Malfoy’s behaviour in Hogwarts in 1997 leading up to the murder of Albus Dumbledore, a witness of said murder and a witness of Mr Malfoy’s actions in March 1998 at Malfoy Manor. What evidence can you provide the court with?”

“I give evidence that Malfoy was indeed involved in the crimes he is accused of,” Potter began causing a wave of affirmation to travel around the room. “But from my eye-witness accounts I agree with Mrs Malfoy; Draco Malfoy acted under the pressure of threat and not of his own free will.”

Draco’s sharp intake of breath was drowned out by the collective gasp from around the courtroom. Draco stared at Potter in disbelief; was Potter really going to _defend_ , not accuse him? Even the usually calm Minister of Magic looked shaken by this turn of events.

“And what evidence do you put forward Mr Potter?” asked the man behind Shacklebolt.

“I am aware that during the school year 1996 to 1997, Draco Malfoy – who was usually an outgoing student – withdrew from the social side of Hogwarts. He stopped playing Quidditch and to be honest looked rather ill. At the time I believed he was involved in something but it later became clear he contrived to murder Professor Dumbledore. I believe his failing health that year reflected a desperation and fear of not completing the task set by Voldemort. On the night Dumbledore died, I was in the Astronomy Tower unbeknown to Draco Malfoy or the other Death Eaters present as Dumbledore had immobilised me and made me invisible. Once Malfoy arrived, it became clear to me that Dumbledore had known all along what Malfoy had been plotting. Draco made it clear he had to kill Dumbledore or Voldemort would kill him. In the end Draco could not do it and as you know Severus Snape took his place.”

The atmosphere in the room was changing, reverting back to the less hostile mood which had followed Narcissa’s speech and Draco could barely believe it.

Potter continued, “Last March when I was kidnapped by Snatchers and brought to Malfoy Manor, I again witnessed Malfoy’s reluctance to carry out orders to help Voldemort. My face had been disfigured and I was captured alongside Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Malfoy was asked to confirm who we were. After attending school together for six years, I have little doubt he knew immediately who we were but was reluctant in handing out this information. This bought us time to create an escape. I do not pretend Draco Malfoy is not guilty. But I testify that in my encounters with him over the past two years, he has been withdrawn, scared, reluctant and unwilling. What I would ask of those here today is leniency in his sentence.”

Shacklebolt rose from behind his podium, “Thank you Mr Potter. Mr Malfoy, the jury and I will now come to a conclusion of this case.”

It took well over an hour before the court reconvened and Draco sat nervous but slightly hopeful.

“Draco Malfoy, the Wizengamot finds you not guilty of consensual engagement in Death Eater activity. However, you are guilty of the crimes you stand accused of. The court sentence you to three years of community service in St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Failure to comply will result in a fine and a period of imprisonment in Azkaban,” intones Shacklebolt.

Draco couldn’t process what he was hearing. He wasn’t to go to Azkaban? He felt the shackles around his wrists vanish and a guard lead him across the courtroom in a trance. It was only when his mother embraced him tightly that it sunk in – he’d been given a chance.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I mentioned, this is based on a song, so lyrics are interspersed throughout!

_It was only a smile_

_But my heart it went wild_

_I wasn't expecting that_

Draco was doing the rounds of the last ward of the day with a tray of medication floating beside him. He could still not believe his luck to have escaped Azkaban and thus far, community service at St Mungo’s had proved tiring but rewarding. Many of the patients did treat him with disdain or outright ignored him. However, there were some who didn’t recognise his distinctive Malfoy features or were too out of their minds to care. It was these patients that he preferred and he found himself willing them to recover from the ailments they suffered from.

On this particular day, however, Draco had just been subjected to a tirade from a woman whose son had died at the hands of an unknown Death Eater. He had quickly tried to escape but he knew he deserved her anger. He knew he deserved worse. Therefore, he was feeling rather miserable as he entered the last ward.

In the midst of his self-pity, a startlingly voice took him by surprise, “well you’re a nice change from the normal old matrons. A handsome face to end my day!”

Draco was glad the tray was hovering as he knew he would’ve dropped it otherwise. A pretty dark haired woman was grinning up at him from where she sat cross legged on her bed.

“Good evening,” he said politely, “I have your medication.”

She smirked, “and what if I don’t want it?”

Draco glanced around the ward but there were no healers present, “err…”

“I’m joking,” she grinned. “Give it here. I’m Astoria, it’s nice to see you again Draco.”

Draco blinks stupidly – he is sure he would remember this woman if he had met her before.

“Daphne told me you were volunteering here now,” Astoria expands, “Did you know I used to fancy you before I left Hogwarts. I told her that hopefully you’d be on my ward one day. It appears my teenage fantasies have come true!”

Draco is not sure whether to be more shocked by her candour or flirtatious tone. He remembers now; Daphne Greengrass’s younger sister left Hogwarts during her second year due to mysterious illness. Draco had been in fourth year at the time and could just about remember the lively younger version of the woman in front of him.

Perhaps Merlin had known he needed a bright spark at the end of this day – whatever it was, he was glad to go home with her bright smile in his mind.

“It’s good to see you too, Astoria,” he replied softly.

* * *

_Just a delicate kiss_

_Anyone could've missed_

_I wasn't expecting that_

Astoria is grinning when Draco visits. She’s been cleared for discharge in a week. She doesn’t want to wait. She persuades him to take her to the private hospital garden – her parents don’t like her to go outside. They chat for around an hour. Draco opens up slightly about the war. It makes him feel lighter to talk to someone. Astoria is thrilled he trusts her and is definitely feeling something. As he helps her back into her wheelchair she presses a small kiss to his cheek. Draco doesn’t know how to respond. He wasn’t expecting that.

It's been a couple of months since Draco first met Astoria on his rounds and he makes sure to visit her as often as he can now, even when he is not on duty. On a Sunday afternoon, he arrives to her standing precariously beside her bed arguing with a healer about a wheelchair.

“-perfectly capable to walk by myself,” she is protesting.

The healer sighs, “Miss Greengrass, you are definitely stronger but if you want to get better, you need to pace yourself. Perhaps Mr Malfoy could support me on this.”

Astoria turns quickly and grins at Draco, “Draco! I want to go out to the Hospital Garden but apparently I am to be strapped into this torture device!”

Draco tries not to smile at the indignant look on her face, “I’d rather you make it there in one piece. There’s no shame in it.”

“Fine,” she relents, sitting down. “But you will have to push me.”

Draco feels a wave of surprise – he is still not used to the fact that Astoria willingly wants to spend time with him. Apart from his mother, he has not found a single other witch or wizard who would pass time with him these days.

“As you wish,” he nods and moves to take the handles. The healer sends a grateful nod before moving to the next patient.

The garden is thankfully empty – Draco can deal with the stares for the most part but he does not want Astoria subjected to them.

“I’m going to be discharged next week,” she exclaims once he has sat down on a bench beside her. “Can you believe it? Years inside this hospital and finally I will see the outside world again!”

“That’s wonderful,” Draco returns, genuinely happy.

Astoria sighs, “to think of what the world it like now – I have missed so much!”

“Some of it was worth missing,” Draco mutters darkly then catches himself, “Sorry Astoria, you don’t want to hear about that.”

“But I do,” she reaches out to stroke his knee, sending shudders through Draco’s body. “I’m here for you Draco, you can talk to me, I promise I won’t judge.”

Once again, she has managed to surprise him, “you don’t have to pretend you want to hear about my past as a Death Eater.”

“It’s your past, Draco,” Astoria presses, “you’re different now and I want to be there for you when you need me.”

“Thank you,” Draco gives her a small smile. “I don’t want to talk about it now … but maybe someday.”

“That’s enough for me,” replies Astoria before reaching up and pressing a small kiss to Draco’s cheek. Draco doesn’t know how to respond; he wasn’t expecting that. 


	3. Chapter 3

_Did I misread the sign?_

_Your hand slipped into mine_

_I wasn't expecting that_

“Draco, is that you?”

Draco turns from the goblin he was speaking to and sees Astoria leaning on a cane and waving at him. Daphne stands beside her looking slightly disapproving of her sister’s loud and excited voice. Draco ignores her and moves towards Astoria, her smile bringing a matching one to his own face.

“How are you?” he asked as he gets closer.

Astoria explained that they were in Diagon Alley for lunch but Daphne had been called into work early – she was training as a code breaker at Gringotts. Astoria lamented that she could use some company at the Leaky Cauldron.

“Well, I’m free,” Draco offered haltingly “that is, if you don’t mind being glared at by half of wizarding London.”

Astoria whacked his arm gently, “don’t give me that self-pity Draco, you know I don’t care what other people think of us. If they want something to talk about, I’ll give them something to talk about.”

And with that, she unexpectedly links her fingers through his and leads him out of the bank. Draco is used to the sideways stares and whispered comments but he finds the feeling of Astoria’s hand in his so grounding, yet exciting, that it manages to make him forget the deriding stares.

* * *

_You spent the night in my bed_

_You woke up and you said_

_"Well, I wasn't expecting that!"_

The light of the morning streamed through the small flat in muggle London. Draco doesn’t sleep well at the best of times – and definitely not in Malfoy Manor anymore. But on this bright spring morning, he realises that for the first time in years, he feels well rested.

A slight movement to his left alerts him to tussled brown hair sprawled across his pillows and the peaceful, sleeping face of his girlfriend. He smiles despite himself – how had he managed this life, despite everything?

He knows he loves Astoria. He is more sure of it than anything in the world. He doesn’t quite understand it, but Astoria loves him too. It has been whispered between breaths and kisses many times in this bed over the last week or so. Draco never imagined he would experience such a loving relationship – his parents certainly had not provided him with the best example of love.

Astoria shifts again slightly, the light clearly beginning to wake her. Draco presses a kiss to her shoulder and runs his hand along the length of her body – he can be creative with how he wakes her up. After the first few touches, her eyes spring open as a gasp of pleasure escapes her mouth. She pulls his face towards her own as his hand continues its ministrations. Eventually, a cry leaves her and she leans her head against his shoulder.

Breathing heavily, she grins up at him “Well, I wasn’t expecting that!”

* * *

_I thought love wasn't meant to last_

_I thought you were just passing through_

Mr Greengrass cornered Draco as he made to leave the Greengrass home one night after dinner.

“Draco,” he begun. “I know you and Astoria care for one another but, as her father, I cannot allow this to go on any longer. People are starting to talk. Perhaps before the war, I would have allowed it but I cannot let Astoria’s name be dragged through the dirt with your family.”

“Mr Greengrass,” Draco protested, “I have tried to tell her the same thing. She does not mind.”

“I mind,” Mr Greengrass returned firmly. “She deserves only the best.”

Draco turned away to hide his reaction. He knew Astoria deserved the best in life. He knew she wanted him, even if he didn’t understand. He knew what Mr Greengrass was asking would break her heart – but wasn’t a broken heart better than being laboured with the tarnished Malfoy name. Draco knew it had all been too good to be true. Escaping Azkaban had been a shock enough but he had known Astoria was more than he deserved.

“I will sort it out,” he whispered.

Mr Greengrass nodded, “see that you do.”

With a broken heart, Draco broke up with Astoria a week later. She cried and screamed at him for the first time in their relationship before Disapparating quickly. Draco went back to his old routine; hospital duty, dinner with his mother, weekend visits to his father and home to his cold bed in the dreary streets of London. He had never felt so broken.

* * *

_If I ever get the nerve to ask_

_What did I get right to deserve somebody like you?_

_I wasn't expecting that_

It was over two weeks later when Astoria turned up at his doorstep in the middle of the night.

“Daphne told me what Papa told you,” she spoke immediately before pressing her lips against his once again.

Later, they lay in bed, tweisted around one another.

“I understand why you did it,” she whispered “I still half-hate you for it but I know why you did it. Please don’t be so selfless again, I like you more when you’re selfish about us.”

Draco marvelled at what he had done to deserve such a beautiful forgiving and loving woman who will take him despite his many faults. He wasn’t expecting that.

In the morning, Draco is once again shocked when he sees Astoria standing by the fireplace with his visitor’s pass for Azkaban.

“If he insists on you going, then I’m coming with you,” she shrugged.

Draco felt a wave of relief but protested, “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know.”

Even with the removal of the Dementors, prisoners of Azkaban still go mad. Draco checks them in at the security desk where they are searched. One of the guards makes an off comment about Draco’s Death Eater history. Astoria nearly hexes him but instead uses her wit to shut him up. Draco feels underserving of her support.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

It was only a word

It was almost misheard

I wasn't expecting that

But it came without fear

A month turned into a year

I wasn't expecting that

“Yes” is the sweetest sound when coming from Astoria’s lips.

They are in the Scottish Highlands on holiday. Astoria always loved them and missed the scenery so much when she had to leave Hogwarts.

Draco stares at her dumbfounded. Even after all these years, he still wonders at his good fortune to have been blessed with Astoria.

“Wait … really?”

“Yes, you silly man, of course I’ll marry you!” she beams. “I had quite the mind to ask you myself at this rate!”

Draco hears laughter that sounds rather manic and it takes a moment to realise it is him.

“I hope this isn’t you telling me this was all a prank,” Astoria pouts.

“Never, darling,” he promises. “I just never imagined I could feel as happy as I do right now.”

* * *

Oh and isn't it strange

How a life can be changed

In the flicker of the sweetest smile

We were married in spring

You know I wouldn't change a thing

Without that innocent kiss

What a life I'd have missed

The sun is tearing down through the trees that border the beautiful gardens around the Greengrass family home. No expense has been spared for their youngest daughter’s wedding. The chatter of excited guests fills the grounds as Draco paces nervously up and down the length of a nearby conservatory.

“ _Witch Weekly_ want to get some solo shots of you before the ceremony,” comes the voice of his mother from the doorway.

Draco shakes his head, “they can wait until I’m with Astoria.”

“I have never known you to be one for nerves, darling,” Narcissa raises an eyebrow.

“I just – I sometimes wonder what my life would have been if I hadn’t met her – I would have missed so much happiness and joy,” Draco responds. “And when I think about what I’ve done and the person I was, I sometimes don’t feel that I deserve to be happy.”

The smile on Narcissa’s face is replaced with determination as she grips Draco by the shoulder, “Draco, I may not tell you this all the time but it is your wedding day and you should hear it. You are loved. By me, by Astoria and even by your father, though he may not show it. I would give up everything for you to be safe – you know what I did during the war for you – I would do it again, and more. But even greater than your safety, is your happiness. It is because of what you have gone through, that you deserve it even more.”

“Thank you, mother,” Draco pulled her into an unusual and unexpected hug.

“Now, go and meet your bride,” she patted his check.

The wedding goes off without a hitch; Draco may be biased but he has never seen a more beautiful bride and he tells her as much when she breaks away from the kiss that seals them together.

“I never want to experience a day of my life without you.”

“You never will, Draco.”

* * *

If you'd not took a chance

On a little romance

When I wasn't expecting that

Time doesn't take long

Three kids up and gone

I wasn't expecting that

“Mrs Malfoy, Mr Malfoy,” the healer takes a deep sigh. “I’m sorry to be the one who tells you this, but we cannot recommend you continue to try for a baby. The risk is too great for Mrs Malfoy due to her medical history.”

Determined as ever, “but we can have children?” Astoria responds.

“In theory, yes, but the chance of you and the baby surviving to full term is minimal,” the healer replies flatly. Astoria goes pale. Politely, Draco thanks the healer and apparates them home where Astoria immediately breaks down into sobs.

“We could try anyway,” she cries.

Draco pulls her close, “darling, I can’t risk losing you. We’ll find another way. I promise.”

“So that’s it then,” Lucius fumes. “The Malfoy bloodline will die out.”

Draco somehow finds the strength not to hex his father, “I have just told you my wife’s life would be in danger and that we cannot have a child to love and all you care about is the bloodline?”

“After everything I have provided you with, you cannot do the one thing I need of you,” Lucius snarls from the other side of the bars. “I expected better of you than to pick a broken wife.”

Draco’s composure disappears along with his visitation rights to Azkaban due to injuring a prisoner. He finds he does not care.

“What about adoption,” Daphne suggests as she and Draco watch Astoria play with her daughters. “Didn’t your mother have to complete community service in that Wizarding orphanage after the war?”

Draco nods thoughtfully, “we are considering it.”

“She would be the best mother,” Daphne smiles sadly.

“I know.”

“I’m pregnant.”

Two words bring Draco’s world crashing down on him. He should be elated, it’s what they have wanted for years. But all he can manage is terror.

“No, we were so careful,” he grits out.

Astoria grips his hands tightly in her own, “we knew there was still a chance. I’m as scared as you, I promise. But if we get through the next six months, we’ll have a baby. We’ll have a family at last!”

“Six months is a long time,” Draco hears himself say.

“Together?”

“Okay, together.”

The healers constantly remark that he seems more anxious than his wife; they are not wrong. Amazingly, there are no complications. The baby is healthy. Astoria is healthy. Draco does not however breath easily until a cold January morning when Astoria is sitting upright in St Mungo’s Maternity Ward cuddling their beautiful little miracle, Scorpius.

Then the rumours start. Draco is fined for hexing a group in the Leaky Cauldron for questioning his wife’s honour. He tries to protect Scorpius and Astoria but they hear soon enough. Astoria doesn’t mind; she sees the rumours as far-fetched and ridiculous. Draco is furious; his family have gone through enough. Astoria, as always, is his guiding light who sees them through the worst of the hatred. Scorpius has a wonderful childhood with his parents; he is their pride and joy. Draco never expected any of it.

* * *

When the nurses they came

Said, "It's come back again"

I wasn't expecting that

Scorpius has been at Hogwarts nearly a year when the healers give them the worst news.

“I’m so sorry Mrs Malfoy but it’s come back again,” the healer reports without a smile. Draco feels his heart break in two as Astoria nods at the healer as if in a trance.

Astoria – normally so calm and collected – cries her eyes out as she explains to their twelve year old son that she may not see him reach thirteen. Scorpius cries and holds on to her. Draco is beside himself. He has always deep down known his happiness was too good to be true.

* * *

Then you closed your eyes

You took my heart by surprise

I wasn't expecting that

“Just hold me.” Astoria whispers before bed that night. Draco tries to stay awake to watch her but her breathing lures him to sleep. He awakes to the cold of death. Scorpius awakes to a scream so unearthly he would never have imagined coming from his father.

They barely sleep. They barely eat. Draco leaves Scorpius to King’s Cross in a trance.

Three days later, Scorpius appears in the fireplace with Albus Potter in tow. Scorpius tells Draco that Albus is coming to the funeral and glares at him as if daring Draco to forbid it. Draco just nods before pulling both Scorpius and Albus into a tight hug.

“Look after him,” he whispers hoarsely to the Potter boy.

“Of course, Mr Malfoy,” Albus responds earnestly. 

They proceed to the burial plot in the Malfoy grounds. Draco keeps his eyes fixed on his wife’s coffin, willing himself not to cry in front of the gathered crowd. When they seal the tomb, he holds Scorpius up as the tears flow loudly down his pale cheeks. Scorpius eventually turns away and is taken inside by Albus and Narcissa. Once everyone has gone, Draco finally allows himself to collapse before Astoria’s tomb and cry.

No. He never expected this.


End file.
